


What I could never ask for

by Sh_Wat



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Sex Pollen, alternative 5x07, porn with a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23700181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sh_Wat/pseuds/Sh_Wat
Summary: Jim and Oswald were abducted and woke up in one cemented cell. Soon it became apparent that they were drugged with more than just tranquilizer.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	What I could never ask for

**Author's Note:**

> My experiment on Sex Pollen Trope field. As usual with me, it all went down romance path.  
> Set in slightly different 5x07. I don't know what would motivate bad guys to make them do it, i really have no idea :)  
> Fair warning - there will be bad action scene in the end.  
> English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes!

Oswald was seated on the floor of the gray cement chamber, his body and mind strangely numb. He suspected he could attribute it to drug he was dosed with in his dining room some unspecified time ago by the hands of someone disguised as his henchman. He was still alive, so it was at least for a time being preferable to people who got him to keep him alive. Stupid. Whatever they got ready for him, they’re gonna regret it the second he regains enough consciousness back to fight for his freedom – with fists or with wits, he could do both. If only his thought process wasn’t so slow still…

He didn’t even feel surprise when, with further inspection, noticed that he’s not alone in the cell. Across him, leaning on the wall and frowning at their bleak surroundings, sat Jim Gordon. Another mistake their captors made. They parted on troubled terms after Zsasz trial and that savage Eduardo Torrance attempt to get him locked up, but they could always find a way to negotiate.

\- Good to see it’s you who keep me company here, Jim.

His voice was hoarse. Jim smiled grimly as he stood up, holding by the wall, and raised his head to observe the fluorescent lamp above them.

\- Suppose I feel the same.

Oswald wanted to ask him where he was taken from, to know if GCPD was taken down as well, but Jim answered unasked question himself.

\- I was following one wild lead when they took me. Or rather he, the man was alone in the alley.

\- Were you alone? Jim – really? - Oswald didn’t expect Jim to be careless now, when Gotham needed him this much.

\- I had backup, but I ran after him – too fast.

Jim shook his head, looking concerned. Either he got lesser degree of drug, or he was just more resilient. After all, there were instances when he broke from Scarecrow fear gas, so Oswald supposed it was expected. Did captors neglect this information too? Oswald started to think that they were hopeless amateurs – or maybe they were outsiders. Maybe it was the job of people who sent Torrance.

Oswald opened his mouth to tell Jim at least the last part of his thoughts when distorted by speakers voice interrupted them.

_\- Good day, gentlemen. I’m sorry that I have to put you in such dire predicament, but needs must. I wanted my plans to flourish, and you always tend to meddle._

\- Aren’t you going to introduce yourself? – Jim answered, raising his head, Oswald was looking for the transmitter too, but couldn’t locate it. Well hidden.

_\- No, Mr. Gordon, I’m afraid not. But I can assure you – I’m a hospitable host and you will be suitably occupied. Think of it as unplanned siesta. But don’t go too far, everything is monitored. The most important for me – is that you won’t spoil my big day._

The slowed down, self-assured manner of speaking seemed familiar, but it was too distorted to recognize. When the speech ended, Jim raised an eyebrow at Oswald, but Oswald shrugged. He couldn’t imagine what they would face here that would leave them alive to get free and witness what the unknown captor did.

Something wasn’t right, Oswald conceded. His mind was still not fully alert, and he considered to let Jim know – and at the same time wished he really, really shouldn’t have. Jim’s presence always was distraction in on itself, always pulled his attention, it shouldn’t have been so worrying. But something was not like usual. Something about the way he was aware of Jim’s every move while unable to alert himself to creating any plan of action didn’t feel natural.

Suddenly Jim was right in front of him, kneeling before him to look in the eyes. It was Jim’s thing, to get closer, to watch more intently – it stopped being tantalizing with time, became aching.

\- “Big day”, - he head Jim’s breathy words. – Today is the anniversary of Waynes’ murder.

It must have told him something – but Oswald couldn’t put it in conceivable form. He was too distracted by Jim’s skin, so warm blushing up close, by his slightly hitched breath; by the way his pupils blew wide.

It that very moment he gathered that heat was creeping from the pit of his stomach down and he was getting hard.

So this is what they decided to drug them with. Not so stupid, after all.

His heart was pounding. For the first time he was glad he couldn’t think clearly enough to feel full burn of his mortification.

Jim pulled away from him, and Oswald had enough time to bitterly chuckle, but before he could find something similarly stinging to say, he saw Jim kicking off his shoe – and hurdling this shoe at the ceiling.

He got the lamp broken on the first try. Maybe it wouldn’t be sufficient – night vision always was a option, but there was a chance their prisoners didn’t have that good of equipment. In the darkness that fell over them, suffocatingly absolute, Oswald felt all his senses sharpened, and it was not the best course of action.

He would share his suspicion with Jim, if only jolts of arousal darting up and down his body weren’t this intense. It wasn’t obvious how long this will be happening, and will he be able to go through it with his dignity at least somewhat intact.

His cock was fully hard now, and the pressure of fabric was enough for his hips to just twitch a little – and the sensation was so overwhelmingly good he covered his mouth so Jim wouldn’t hear him.

It added a maddening, almost alluring tension to the whole ordeal – that Jim was here, not that far from him, though invisible in the dark, and if Oswald tried, he would hear what he’s doing now. Jim, obviously, just predicted where his thoughts might be going, because he said, relatively gruff:

\- I’m sorry, but it’s the only modicum of modesty I can offer. Maybe that way we’re going to get it over with faster.

Oswald couldn’t help it, he laughed.

\- Good luck to us both then.

The most absurd and pathetic situation he ever was in, and yet the only reasonable choice he had was to roll with it. Just close his eyes and try to tell himself that this is an erotic nightmare, and maybe one round of good handjob would be enough.

He could hear the rustling of Jim’s clothes, briefly amused by his nonchalant approach towards sex even in this circumstance, but he didn’t have that much self-control – or self-confidence. When he heard Jim _licking his palm_ he couldn’t do anything about, he almost felt the wet touch on himself and the image was so vivid, so mercilessly perfect that he actually groaned – involuntary, touching his own cock dry, rough and fast.

He hoped it would at least burn, to outweigh the pleasure, to make this more mechanical, but even that felt good. Oswald could not get himself to relax, to seclude himself in some heated fantasy – while he was on the cold cement, in complete dark and listening to Jim’s rhythmic moves, his fastened breath. Every sound of him made Oswald more miserable, more restless. He wanted to share every breath with Jim, wanted to double every touch, and now he was so close – and he would never get to feel him anyway.

Frustrated, he willed himself to stop listening, squeezed his eyelids to the point of colorful dots, and concentrated completely on getting the damn off. The heat traveled over his body, his cock was leaking already, he was breaking sweat. Oswald hated not being able to control this sensations, hated to be rendered to this state against his will. But most of all he hated how the sensation never raised enough to burst, never got him even close to be free - it went in circles, hot, exquisite, draining.

He tried to evoke something appropriate in mind to maybe wound himself up enough – thrusting into his fist harder, imagining the obscene and artsy movies he once watched with actors handsome and heavily painted, like always in silent pictures. He imagined pretty rentboys on crème silk. He imagined strong beautiful hands, deep blue eyes and golden lock over Jim’s forehead.

He was just few feet away on the right.

Oswald held his breath and worked his fist faster.

_If he let Oswald touch him, he would feel the same, pleasure over every pull of fingers. He would be just as exposed and vulnerable to every caress, and Oswald would sate him, every need, every plead unspoken, he would stop this fever for both of them. Jim would be grateful, so rare and therefore so affecting, and he would touch Oswald too, delightful, would drag the pleasure out all the way from the base to the tip…_

\- Oswald?

Oswald actually banged his head on the wall, teeth clenching. Maybe it wasn’t obvious in the dark to Jim, but if he was lucky enough to come and get to normal without Oswald noticing, Oswald was still not there.

He didn’t even know how to address this. He felt Jim’s heat with his shoulder, felt the scent of his sweat mixing with his aftershave, and the urge to press his face to Jim’s collar and keep moving his hand was stronger with every passing second.

\- James Gordon, we had an agreement! – Oswald blurted out, trying to keep himself completely still.

\- I think it won’t work that way. It’s bound to exhaust us but it won’t end with… separate release.

Jim’s voice sounded just slightly embarrassed – and breathless. It was hard to concentrate on what he said, with his chest touching Oswald’s elbow. Oswald felt trembling that had nothing to do with primal itch of his unnatural arousal.

Jim, it seemed, took his silence for accepting the divergence on the plan. His hand laid on Oswald’ chest, tentative, illogically soothing. It was so sudden that Oswald jerked away. He regretted it immediately but didn’t surge back, not sure if it was the body or emotion that reached to Jim – not sure if he was ready for the mixture.

Jim took it not as Oswald would expect.

\- It’s just drug, Oswald, - he said quietly. Oswald wished he could see his face. – When we finish with this and get away from here, you will go back to hating me and leaving the city.

He wasn’t joking. Jim’s voice was… sad, and this sadness made Oswald’s chest clench. Their city was doomed, and Oswald was tired of fighting for it, but leaving Jim to fight the last battles alone was the tasking price for a way out.

\- You don’t want me to hate you? – he asked, because it was the most illogical Jim could ever feel towards him. He spend too much time squashing these naïve Oswald’s attempts to make them more than adversaries who can deal peacefully only stricktly for business.

Jim’s hand was on Oswald’s face now. Slowly, feather-light brush over his cheek, his chin, tingling, enchanting. Oswald felt his mouth dry, opened his lips without thinking, and he could blame the drug on it, but it didn’t feel disturbing, forced.

\- I don’t, - Jim answered, and Oswald rather felt it than heard, and next thing he knew Jim was kissing him, and the feel of his lips was so bright and needy and beautiful, Oswald arched into Jim’s tough, but Jim pulled away already.

Oswald cursed under his breath and caught Jim’s shoulders, clinging to him.

\- I can’t-I never hated you. And it’s not just the drug, Jim. I honest to god can’t believe you’re thinking it’s only the drug…

His voice was quivering, he couldn’t even finish his halting, stupid parody of a confession – because Jim’s fingers held him by the hip and then slid under the belt, and Oswald felt his cock throbbing already. He thought he ought to feel cheated – this encounter in the dark by whimsy of their mutual enemy was something far from how he wanted to be with Jim for the first time – even if it would be once.

He would want it to happen on the bed, and certainly there would be at least some light so he could watch Jim’s face, see every change in expression, meet his smile with his own. He wanted soft mattress and clean sheets. But even like this, it was wonderful, it was exhilarating.

Jim’s fingers curled around Oswald’s shaft, and his open lips touched the corner of Oswald’s mouth. Oswald raised both hands, catching Jim’s face, tracing his features with his fingers, tangling in Jim’s hair – his soft, soft hair. It felt strange, almost not blending – this sudden wave of purely sentimental, helpless tenderness – and pleasure boiling in his veins at every Jim’s touch.

Jim leaned back, leading Oswald with him, so Oswald laid in top of him – and Oswald gasped when he felt that Jim takes them both in hand. He grasped Jim’s forearm, the other hand traveled down to help Jim hold them. They moved together now, hips rocking, cocks sliding over each other, and Oswald felt his smile when they moaned at the same time. He felt Jim’s soft smile too, in his breathing, in his little kisses, touching his face with his fingertips.

Jim slid his free hand over Oswald’s, kissed his palm and at the same time tightened his grip around them. Oswald felt Jim’s stomach tensing, and turned them on the side, running his hand over Jim’s body as far as he could – his spine leaning into Oswald’s caress, his hips, his round backside. He felt faint, distant regret that they couldn’t undress now so he could feel Jim’s skin with no clothes, but even that felt gratifying – for both of them.

Oswald felt dizzy when he came. And at the same time he felt acutely everything that’s happened with Jim, every shudder of his muscles, his low groan reverberating through their chests.

For a moment they just laid down, evening their breathing. They were lucky – considering the clearing of mind, assurance of movements told Oswald that the effect wore off. He distantly thought about the handkerchief he could use to at least try get their messed clothes in order. But that would require moving, and Oswald didn’t want to let Jim go – but Jim shifted already. Oswald felt kiss on the cheek, lingering, warm, and then Jim used the handkerchief of his own and started to tuck them back.

\- Better? – Jim asked, helping Oswald to stand. Oswald nodded, but then remembered Jim couldn’t see it.

\- Your bet was right. Now the only question is how we were transported here…

The answer to his question presented itself it that very moment. With aloud crack the door that previously, while the light was on, was masked in the texture of the wall next to Oswald. They raised hands, protecting their eyes from the sudden bright light.

\- James Gordon is going with me, - said the voice, not the one they heard over the speakers, but monotone, mechanical too. The figure reached out, and Oswald surged forward without clear thinking.

\- Like hell! – he snarled, knocking the man down on the floor and hitting him in the head for a good measure. It’s not like the precaution was excessive – the man was armed with iron rod.

Oswald grabbed it when Jim’s hands helped him stand.

\- Oswald, let him go, he’s just…

\- Hypnotized, right, to my biggest delight!

Jervis Tetch was smiling on them from the center of big factory room. Next to him Ecco was smiling with exceptional nastiness, leaning over the tube where she finished tying up Leslie Thompkins.

\- Get them! – Tetch gestured, and the dozens of men rushed towards them from every direction. But before Oswald and Jim could exchange glances, the attack stalled. All the men turned their heads back, where Jervis was suddenly struggling.

It turned out Lee managed to wrench from Ecco’s unfinished ties and pushed Jervis on the ground, stunning him with a good blow and wrestling the watches from his hands. Jim made a move to get past hypnotized thugs, but he could set them in motion – so Oswald decided to throw the rod in direction of Ecco. There was little chance to incapacitate her – but he was lucky enough to make her duck instead of grabbing Lee. It was just the second Lee needed to break the watches.

Tetch' puppets snapped out of his hold, blinking in confusion. Jim finally got the chance to rush to Lee’s side. Oswald followed, not knowing if he can call the happening victory or not.

\- I was waiting for this moment for a long time, - Lee said, standing over Tetch. She was smiling wide, clearly happy over the fight she won.

\- You’re alright? – Jim asked, holding her by the shoulder.

\- Yes, are you? – Lee’s eyes darted from Jim to Oswald. – Not hypnotized?

Oswald suddenly felt embarrassment. They weren’t under the influence anymore, but the nature of everything they really went through with Jim stood bare and harsh before him. They weren’t acting on their own accord, if not for Jeremiah and his twisted sense of humor Jim would never touch him with passion, with abandon.

Maybe Jim broke the lights not only to rob Jeremiah from opportunity to humiliate them. Maybe he did it to hide.

\- We’re good, - Jim said quickly, subdued, but he was thinking about something more urgent. – Did Ecco say something about their plan?

\- Not much, - Lee turned to the entrance. – I think we better hurry after her.

\- Just a moment, - Jim nodded and turned to Oswald. Lee rolled her eyes and went towards the exit door.

Oswald was going to say that there’s no use in apologizing, everything is alright and Jim is ought to run to stop whatever Jeremiah tried to set in motion. He didn’t know what he’s going to do now, he didn’t feel enough strength left even to search for escape strategies.

He didn’t say any of it. Jim took his hand, suddenly open, and when Oswald raised his head, not understanding what he wanted to do. Was it Jim’s desire to give him something nice before he goes?

\- Not just the drug, remember? – Jim said softly. His expression was uncertain, worried, he had no time and seemingly no right words.

Oswald chuckled, not letting go of his hand. And Jim added:

\- I’m not asking you to help now, I’m not asking to stay if you already decided – but if not, you can come to GCPD. I’ll tell them to let you.

Oswald suddenly felt his throat tighten, but Jim already released his palm.

\- Careful on your way, - he said with a faint glimpse of a smile and turned away, and ran away after Lee, Ecco, Jeremiah, another attempt to set things right.

Oswald closed his eyes to steady himself, breathed deeply in and out. If he decide to stay, it would be dangerous, It would be hard, it would give him no guaranties of better relationship with so-called law-abiding citizens after it will all be over.

But he had more care to stay than will to go.

**Author's Note:**

> I went there. i finished with Romeo and Juliet reference. My fate was sealed when i found out that "Parting is such sweet sorrow" is also a quote.  
> Thank you, anyone who read this!


End file.
